


Water

by plumfulkiss



Series: The Water Series [1]
Category: Chicago Med, Chicago PD (TV), Jay is only mentioned this is not a PD centric fic!
Genre: Connor is a thot, First Kiss, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, It's mainly in his perspective, M/M, Minor fight scene, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Elements, Will thinks to himself a lot, mermaid!Connor, that's right! i said it!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-12-14 03:05:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21008666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumfulkiss/pseuds/plumfulkiss
Summary: When Will discovers one of Connor's many secrets, he discovers that he's one of the only ones able to keep it.





	1. Discovery

All things considered, Will never thought of himself as the most observant person he knew. He’d like to be, he thought to himself, making a face into his car’s visor mirror. He should have shaved this morning. He quirked his brow for a moment, summoning some curious face before slamming the visor shut and shoving back in the driver’s seat, covering his eyes for just a moment. He would have to head in soon.

Something was up with Connor. It was undoubtedly so, at least to him, and as the days grew longer it became more and more apparent. He behaved… _strangely_, like something was wrong, like he had something to hide. Being able to notice this without seeing him every day was, in a way, a win for Will.

For starters, he wore gloves even when he didn’t have to. Nothing wrong with a little cleanliness, most people would put it aside, but not Will. Will thought it was weird, the way he essentially went through double the amount of gloves as the rest of the hospital. Did he have anything to lose? Perhaps a new aversion to germs, but in this line of work the two didn’t go together.

When Will saw him three days ago, Connor had band-aids on both sides of his neck, the ones that belong on skinned knees or shoulder burns. He pried then.

_ “What’s with the band-aids, Rhodes?” Will asked with his nose crinkled, the way it did when he finally caught on to a running joke. This was no joke, though. It could be anything. _

_ _ _ _ _ Connor stifled a chuckle and shrugged. “Rogue cat, Halstead,” He said offhandedly. His fingers grazed the fabric gently. For a moment he looked nervous, but like an exhale it passed. “Claire’s got one. Hates me. I’ve got scratches up to here.” _

_ _ _ _ _ He made a motion with his hands, his gloved hands. _

_ _ _ _ _ “Ouch,” said Will with a grimace. He was allergic. “How did it manage to nab you ther-” _

_ _ _ _ _ Maggie stepped into the room. Breaktime over. Duty calls. _

To summarize, it was a question left unanswered, which added onto the other questions steadily forming a pile. They nipped at Will’s ankles and pried at his thoughts. It was almost distracting. There were a lot of things about Connor that Will found almost distracting.

He turned the car key and tugged it out before opening the door, clambering out almost awkwardly. The car was a little  _ too  _ small, and he a little  _ too  _ tall for comfort. The car still chugged along though, and likely wouldn’t be replaced until it physically couldn’t make the commute. The door shut with a jitter, and there he was, heading into the building.

He had a long day ahead of him.

  
  
  
  


Five gunshot wounds, several impatient patients, and a girl with a tummy-ache later, Will still hadn’t shaken the strange feeling in his stomach about Connor. He argued with himself; It wasn’t normal nor ethical to dedicate so much of his thoughts to the man.

However, things weren’t looking up for Will. In fact, Will was looking down at the ground while on the way to the cafeteria when bump became shock became stumble became crash. Brown eyes glanced up, startled, before he stumbled into the ground. They met orbs of blue, like the ocean, striking waves against the sand like foam. Blue. Caring and annoyed all at the same time. Will hadn’t ever seen the ocean before, not in person.

Connor had bumped into him quickly and slowly all at once. He looked… on edge, nerves gone haywire, and could barely react,  _ acknowledge  _ Halstead before disappearing down yet another hallway. His hand was wet; Will felt it in the brief moment that Connor pulled him up onto his feet before letting go. Just water, evidently. He wiped it off on his coat.

“Rhodes!” He called, confused and agitated enough to not just let this slide. To let this go without even slight acknowledgement felt practically like blasphemy. 

That’s how he ended up chasing the trauma surgeon down the hall, rage a-glow. Things were just too strange to let up on, with Connor, with Will, with everything and everyone. 

There were two left turns then one right down a hallway that Will followed the hasty steps of Connor Rhodes. He turned the last corner as a flash of scrubs dipped into an empty room, storage. It slammed shut with a curse- loud, frustrated, and nervous. 

Will wasn’t far behind, skidding to a stop in front of the door.  _ “Connor, what the fuck!”  _ he shouted, enunciated with a beat and bump and  _ smack  _ against the door. He pulled against the doorknob; locked. Why did doors like these even have locks on the inside? He paused against the door, hands balled into fists with frustration. He couldn’t even explain  _ why _ this angered him so much, why he felt the need to be so involved in something that was none of his business. Even Maggie or Goodwin wasn’t this prying.

Despite these thoughts, when there was more shuffling instead of a response, it fired him up again. The  _ bang, bang, SMACK  _ onto the door made it shiver and creak then  _ crack! _

The lock broke under the tension. Anger. 

Will twisted the knob; loose. He didn’t even have to force it before it opened and he stepped into the dark storage room.

It was small, windowless. The lights were turned off. Will couldn’t see a thing, but was just aware enough to know that this was the right room. 

“Rhodes,” He practically growled, staring into the abyss as his hand searched dutifully for the light. “I know you're here,” He continued. Ah. there it was, just by the door, left side. “You better tell me what the hell’s going on or I’ll-”

_ “Will, don’t-” _

Much happened in quick succession as the fluorescent lights flickered on, shrouding the room in light. Will’s eyes took in everything at once, squinting in the light, blurry and bright and not immediately comprehended. A box of gloves had fallen disappointingly to the floor, spilling out on the tile, surrounding Connor’s tail, blue on blue on green on blue, sparkling, shimmering in the li-

Wait. Hold on.

Fear and confusion, furrowed brow as Will and Connor locked eyes, brown meeting blue, blue, blue.

“This is  _ not _ what it looks like,” Connor asserted, collapsed on the floor, fear in his eyes. The band-aids were missing, out of place, revealing two carefully cut gashes that did not bleed. They trembled with breath. His scrub top was torn, hung up on the way down. He’d fallen, hooked it on something. It was open. Will was staring. 

And then, down to where his legs should have, could have, would have been. Scales, like a fish, like in the stories he’d read as a child, like fairytales, trailed down his waist and into fins. They practically glew, shining in the white light but blue, electric, like Connors eyes, the ones he looked at when he felt hopeless and didn’t know what to do. Like now. He looked to them as if they had an answer to what the hell was going on. 

Will’s nose crinkled. His face, covered by a hand as he tried to make heads or tails (tail, singular, with a dorsal fin and a caudal one too) of it. He couldn’t. It was too much. He felt tense, sweating, panicked. Like everything was falling out of place. 

Connor tried again, “Will, you’ve got t-”

WIll couldn’t even react to how foreign in Connor’s mouth his own name sounded, because he was, heart pounding, ears ringing, leaving the room and trying to forget everything, everything.

The rest of the shift went by as simple as it could. The longer it went on the more things felt like they went into turmoil. His hands were shaking, a small tremor, blamed on stress when asked. He just needed to go home and forget.

He pulled out his house key as he approached the door. It was dark, the day over and done with and just in time for dinner- McDonalds. Not healthy, but cheap, and even he couldn’t argue with cheap. The key fell into place and he turned it. Unlocked, but not broken like the lock from earlier that led him to discover him, and his shredded shirt and the blue in his eyes like fear, cracked by the light. It hurt to think about. He’d thought about it all day.

I have to forget it for the night, he thought to himself, like he had thought more than once before before twisting the knob open and stepping in. 

Of all the things he thought about Connor, good, bad, and secret as he shut the door behind him, the last thing was ever seeing him at his house. At his house where he had not been let in. At his house in a t-shirt and sweatpants with narrow eyes and his hair drooped lazily in his face like he owned the joint. Even less was he expecting to hear his voice and confirm what had happened was no fever dream.

“You and I need to have a nice talk, _Halstead_,” Connor said, voice dripping in every emotion all at once. His head was tilted down but his eyes never left Will’s gaze. Now the blue felt numb, emotionless. Scary.

Will dropped his bag.

This was going to be an even longer night.


	2. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Will nodded, curiosity turning him to look at the scales once again. He did not touch this time, and after a moment glanced around. Connor’s stupid sweatpants were on the floor, and it made his toes curl.
> 
> Just his sweatpants.
> 
> Will coughed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as of now i am finished with season two! should i like or hate ava im almost conflicted

Connor had been over for two hours, ten minutes, and thirteen seconds. Connor had been in Will’s dingy house in those sweatpants and that t-shirt for two hours, ten minutes, and thirt- _ no, _fourteen seconds, and he had managed to talk the entire time. He was crazy talkative, perhaps a nervous tick, and the discovery Will had made this morning had drawn it out of him.

“How long has-” Will pried and pulled at the question, watching his hands, _ his lips _, his posture. The way Connor behaved now was polar to their scuffles before.

“Three months,” He answered, eyes trailing before making the firm, steady contact with Will’s brown orbs. “I don’t know how, so don’t bother asking. Woke up one day… washed my hands, shook them off, and within five minutes I was on the _ floor _ of the lounge with, with-”

“With a tail_ .” _The redhead interrupted, arms at his side as they sat across from each other. He was cross-legged, the way children sat while listening to stories. In a way this was a story; hard to believe had he not seen it a few hours before.

For the first time in two hours, twelve minutes, and twenty four seconds, the living room was silent. It was like the air pressure changed; heavier, almost suffocating. Going to sleep with this knowledge would be impossible. Will had shocked Connor into silence, or _ something, _and if he were being honest, he would have preferred to hear him yelling. A fight would be easier than the simple sharing of knowledge.

Their scuffle in the elevator was easier than this, and that left Will shaken up for three days. He was embarrassed to think about it, and how he _ liked _it, in some strange way. But he wasn’t gay. Maybe he just deserved it then, which he did. He was slouching.

Connor shifted, standing up and stretching and Will snapped into perfect posture once again. When his arms rose above his head, Connor’s shirt lifted. There were scars; stretch marks, even. Will tried to look away, ignore, consider this the beginning of their goodbyes and goodnights, when-

“Could I see it?” Will blurted, words falling out of his mouth faster than his brain was ready for. “The, the tail, I mean. It wouldn’t hurt for you to… _ change, _or anything? It’s a lot to take in.”

Confused, Connor managed a bit of a chuckle. His hands lowered to his sides, chilling in his pockets comfortably. “Nah, Halstead. ‘S not gonna hurt.”

Still… Will was handling this confusingly calmly. There was an inkling of distrust tickling at the back of Connor’s neck, put there long ago, that said this might not end well. What if Will let someone else know, someone in the hospital that wouldn’t keep Connor safe, would rather… _ experiment _on him. 

He turned towards Will, taking two strides closer to him, locking eyes, bringing him close. The blue was cruel, fearful. The brown was nervous.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Connor ordered, bringing words to the unspoken promise that would have to come with the sharing of information. He could feel Will breathing. When he looked away, Connor grabbed his jaw and forced their eyes to lock once more. 

Cruelness became a nervous pleading. “Please. You can’t,” He repeated, a twinge of desperation twisting in his stomach.

Coffee and Rain filled Will’s nostrils, a closeness that brought a flush to his cheeks. His toes curled; He felt trapped. He nodded, a silent thing as wide eyes scanned the face that was so close to him.

And in a moment, it was over. Connor pulled away; Will was allowed to breathe, cover his face but peek through his fingers at the man. Connor smiled, a small half-smile that just barely brought out his sweet smile lines. It was brief. 

“Where’s your bathroom, Halstead?”

Will was back to normal, shifting and twisting to land his feet on the ground. “Second door on the left-” He said almost dismissively, trying to forget that he hadn’t cleaned that bathroom in a couple of weeks. Too busy.

Connor nodded, swaggering his way down the hallway; Will could only watch.

  
  


Will waited six minutes and thirty-seven seconds at the door of the bathroom, waiting for a signal or sign that he was allowed in. He had checked his phone several times in those long minutes, scrolling through anything; his own photos, texts, calls. Something to pass the time. He wondered why things were taking so long… what Connor was doing in there that could possibly warrant this taking that much time.

“All set now, Halstead,” Called Connor from inside the room with the light spilling into the hallway. Will opened the door.

His bathtub was filled with water. Some had spilled a little onto the floor; no big deal. There was already a little water damage. Connor was crammed in, not because he was too tall, but because the absolute mass of his _ tail-- _it still felt foreign to say-- took up most of the space and stuck out of the side uncomfortably. In the dull light of the room, it shone much less, but was still vibrant. Blues and greens in scales sparkled, and Will leaned down, on his knees, barely fitting in the small room, staring like it was his presents on Christmas.

“Earth to Will,” Connor murmured, reaching and tapping him. His gills were _ moving; _breathing with his lungs. Wills head snapped up, his face turning red. Distracted. He used to get in trouble for it when he was an altar boy.

He apologized, scrunching his nose before gingerly reaching his hand out. It shook gently, ever so slightly, before contact was finally, firmly made. Connor shifted slightly at the touch, staring upwards at the ceiling light as Will got a true grasp of what he was looking at. It was warm, wet with water, and it practically pulsed against his touch. He trailed down, walking with his fingers towards the large caudal fin that was practically splayed over his lap. When he went to touch it, _ lift it, _really, it snapped upwards, a movement like a wave. Connor narrowed his eyes, sharply saying for him to “Stop that,” and like that Will’s hand moved back to his lap. Patient. Good. 

“There’s one on the back, isn’t there?” Will asked, not wanting to touch and find out for himself. He shouldn’t be doing this, the back of his head called. He ignored it, but could feel it was growing more and more every time he looked at Connor’s soft eyes. The other nodded, turning slightly to reveal it. “Dorsal,” Will commented, recalling anatomy he forgot he knew, like it was some high school vocabulary and he was studying for a quiz.

“Does anyone else know?”

The question hit Connor like a torrential downpour, and he was _ soaked. _It was an innocent enough question, but when more people knew, and when more people knew that more people knew, it wasn’t safe. But, neither was a lie, and one so immediate. He had to spill.

“Not a soul,” Connor admitted with the slightest squint. 

Will nodded, curiosity turning him to look at the scales once again. He did not touch this time, and after a moment glanced around. Connor’s stupid _ sweatpants _were on the floor, and it made his toes curl.

_ Just _ his sweatpants.

Will coughed.

“Um, so how do you… change back?” He finally asked, thoughts going haywire. He needed Connor to get out of there, for reasons he could not explain.

The brunette reached, flicking the bathtub plug down, watching as the drains began to flow. “Simple enough. Just dry off. Back to normal just like that,” He said with a snap of the fingers, half-smiling.

Standing, Will dusted off his hands on his pants, heading for the door. He stopped for a brief moment to reach under the sink. Two towels were tossed towards Connor; Will opened the door.

“Get out of my house after this, Rhodes,” Will said, cocking a brow as he leaned against the doorframe. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

His body language wasn’t as calm as his voice seemed.

Connor chuckled, though; A true-blue smile. “No problem, Halstead. See you tomorrow?” He asked, shifting to let any other water free. The hem of his shirt was wet; Thankfully he kept that on.

Will turned, grabbing onto the doorknob. “I’ll bring extra towels.”

A laugh. Genuine.

  


Will locked the door as Connor, keys, sweatpants and all, disappeared into the street and towards his car. One by one, the lights came off until he landed in his bedroom. He pulled his bed down--a murphy, like he was still in college-- and exhausted, he fell into bed. There in the dark and silence, he finally had to address the clouds in his mind. _ Connor… _

This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be thinking these things, _ feeling _these feelings. He wasn’t gay. Usually he could push them away, but there was something about how personal things felt. There was no anger, like in the elevator. It was secretive. Secluded. Something to keep between the two. 

Will thought he’d like things to stay like that for a while.


	3. Revery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Has Dr. Rhodes seemed weird to you, Will?” She asked. An innocent question. “I’ve been watching him lately and he’s acting different.”  
Will’s cheeks turned pink. He wasn’t much of a good liar, but he’d have to manage. “I don’t think so,” He said, though the inflection sounded more confused than confident. “I gotta get going, Ava-”  
“Why do you check on him every day, Will?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> halfway through season three! we will make it!

Another busy day in the ED, after three more busy days, and an extra busy day. Chicago doesn’t know when to call it quits, at least, that’s the comment Will made when another set of car crash victims are rolled in with a snap of a new set of gloves. It was hard to deny his mind was elsewhere; he looked like he was going through the motions more than anything as he dipped into trauma two, calling to move them off the gurney and get them hooked up to everything under the sun. 

He hadn’t seen Connor today, but knew he was here. This in itself had thrown off his rhythm. Ever since that night, Will felt a need to check in on the brunette, make sure he was okay, and ask even more questions. How did he drink water? Does he shower anymore? Why didn’t he have-

Blood, directly in his face, hitting him and his scrubs. He plugged it up, holding pressure. This is why it was so bad to be this distracted. You get bloodied up. He tried not to blink. “Let’s get a-”

And so on, and so on. A repetitive cycle, helping people or hurting people and somewhere in between. The secret coming out had blown a valley into working. Will just wanted to see Connor. But not because he liked him, because he was worried for him. He wasn’t gay.

Once things had finally become a little comfortable--waiting on tests, discharges, etc-- that’s what Will did. He wanted to get off his feet, but this was more important.

He took the elevator, and when it opened on the floor Connor should be at, Ava Bekker was there. Her blond hair was pulled back messily. If she’s here, it means they just got out of surgery.

“Hello, Dr. Halstead,” Ava said, her words smiling and her coat folded over her hands. “Fancy seeing you up here.”

Will stepped out, holding the doors open for Ava to head in. But she didn’t move. Dismissively, she commented that she would catch the next one. Will didn’t know what to do.

“You know where Connor is?” He asked, allowing his hands to fall at his sides as he watched Ava.

Her brows rose. Something clicked. 

“He’s gone to wash up,” She replied, accented words floating in the space around them. “We just finished.”

“I figured.”

She nodded. The natural pause between conversation grew a little awkward.

Will rubbed the back of his head. His red waves were a little too long for comfort, and he held onto them absentmindedly. “I’m gonna go look for him, the-”

As he turned, Ava pulled him back in.

“Has Dr. Rhodes seemed weird to you, Will?” She asked. An innocent question. “I’ve been watching him lately and he’s acting different.”

Will’s cheeks turned pink. He wasn’t much of a good liar, but he’d have to manage. “I don’t think so,” He said, though the inflection sounded more confused than confident. “I gotta get going, Ava-”

“Why do you check on him every day, Will?”

Again.

Will sort of shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. 

“We’re friends,” He managed. That sounded even more foreign in his mouth, but it shouldn’t have. “I  _ really _ have to go.” 

She let him.

Will took the route he’d taken yesterday looking for Connor. A couple hallways; He passed the room he found Connor in that first day, and noticed the lock had been fixed. That’s good. His cheeks were still warm, and he touched the side of his face as he rounded the final corner. It was distracting, like a lot of things were distracting. He thought he was over this by now. His hand dropped and he looked up, finding Connor sitting out in the courtyard with a jacket on. It was cold out. Will waved through the window, which made Connor smile, the lines in his face making a welcome appearance.

Will opened the door and stepped out into the chill, wishing he had his own jacket as well. He sat down close to Connor, but not too close. A friend kind of close. Aside from the wind and the distant sound of traffic, it was quiet. He looked out at the horizon.

And then, sudden contact. Connor’s head had dropped onto Will’s shoulder, almost tiredly. Will tried to move, but realized that would be rude, and so he froze. He was shaking, and not because of the cold.

“Long day.” Connor asserted quietly, looking at his own hands. “Just barely had time to dry off after cleaning up.”

Will nodded. For some reason, his throat had tightened. Certainly it wasn’t Connor. It couldn’t be. “I got uh-” He paused, “-blood on my face today.”

“Perfect.”

“Yeah.”

Another natural pause extended, but this one didn’t feel as awkward as the one earlier. It felt warm against the Chicago chill. A breath of fresh air, perhaps.

“Ava asked me about you. I saw her in the hallway,” Will told Connor quietly. “She thinks you’re acting weird, and me too. We might want to step up our game, you know, you stop wearing those gloves all the time and I-”

Connor shushed him. “Halstead, I have had tough conversations all morning. Please let me worry about that later.”

Will looked at Connor, cheeks flushed. 

“Okay.” 

He wasn’t shaking anymore, but the pit in his stomach was steadily growing.

They sat there for a moment, a few minutes. At some point Connor’s head dipped lower and landed on Will’s lap. He was exhausted, it was undeniable, and Will wondered what was going on outside of the hospital for him. Did he sleep well, or was something going on?

Hesitantly, unsure and shaking, like it had been when he touched Connor’s scales, Will lifted his arm and slowly, quietly draped it over Connor. It was just for stability. Nothing more. God, it was cold out here. But…

Will couldn’t help but smile, even a little, tapping the seam of the jacket gingerly, something to do more than anything.

When the door to the courtyard opens, Will decides the moment has to end. He doesn’t want to be seen like this; he’s not gay, nor does he want any more suspicion on Connor. So, he shoves the tired doctor up and scoots near a foot away. It’s April.

“I paged you, Dr. Halstead,” She said, shivering. A cloud had blocked the sun. “We need you.”

Will nodded. Moment gone. He’d be back in a few hours. He stood up, letting the wind hit his red curls as he hurried inside.

  
  


The few hours passed, and Will did not leave to go check on Connor. Instead, he sat, in the warmth of the lounge and under his own jacket with a sniffle. He shouldn’t have stayed out in that courtyard so long; He’d definitely caught a cold. He pulled his feet up onto the couch and under his jacket, using it like a blanket. When Natalie walked in, he nodded gently at her, but said nothing. 

“You look cold,” She said. 

“That’s an astute observation,” He replied with a smug look.

“Thanks.” She said, twisting open her locker. After a moment of thought, she pulled a thin bit of fabric from it, unrolled it, and tossed it towards him. A blanket. 

He caught it. “You keep a blanket in here?” He asked, glancing down at the childish patterns before adding it to the pile.

“It’s Owen’s,” She offers with a shrug, “I just left it here after he came in a couple months ago. Might as well put it to good use.”

“Thanks,” Will said, then sniffled once more. 

Natalie shut the locker gingerly, before glancing towards him again. “How long until you’re heading out?”

“An hour, by the books.” 

She nodded, throwing her own jacket on. “I’m leaving now.”

“Aren’t you going to want this back?” Will asked, jolting up as if waking up, motioning to the little blanket with the trains on it.

A wave of the hand. 

“Just leave it there. Folded, if you don’t mind. I’ll put it back up tomorrow,” Natalie said, tossing the bag over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Will.”

“See you.”

Connor’s stuff wasn’t down here, Will noted as Natalie stepped from the door, tossing a glance back at Will before heading out. It was up on the other floor, the one with the courtyard where Connor had put his head on Will’s shoulder and their hands had almost brushed. Will’s toes curled. It was gross to keep thinking about it.

And yet, if Connor were down here, Will wondered if he would do it again, in the dim room with less people to watch, to interrupt. Maybe Will would touch his hair this time, offer something comforting, a relief from both of their fried nerves. The thought made him cringe and smile, all at once.

Ava wandered past the window, looking for something. Someone. Will wondered if it was him or if it was Connor. Worry inflamed his nerves once more, and he straightened up, needing to stand.

He pulled himself up and folded the blanket with half effort, watching blonde curls circle the bay once, twice, and then disappear back into the higher floors of the hospital. Will chewed the inside of his lip quietly.

Even if Connor didn’t want to hear it, Will needed to be on higher guard. They both did. He couldn’t let anything happen to him, from Ava or anyone else.


	4. Jadery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This still doesn’t make up for how reckless that whole thing was,” Will continued, screwing it shut after a moment of deliberation.   
“I didn’t expect it to,” Connor said, leaning back once more. A pause. “I couldn’t have Ava suspecting me even more, though.”  
“She would have suspected you even more if she saw you with a tail!” Will suddenly snapped, smacking his hand on the table, shooting Connor straight up to standing, his hands held up almost defensively.  
“I know that, I’m not stupid.”  
“Well you’re acting stupid!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> season four everyone!

Connor’s focus was thrown. A bad day, perhaps, or maybe it was because of these tests that didn’t make any sense. He leaned his elbows on the table of the lounge, squinting at them as if that would make the stars suddenly align and the next step appear. There were negatives in places there should be positives, and without much history, he was struggling with what to do. He didn’t like when he was the one struggling.

The door opened and he thought it was Will; He’d sent for him, hoping he would look over this, and also so that they would see each other at least once before the day was over. He was getting over a nasty cold, Connor knew, and (though he did not mention it) Connor had brought an extra thermos of soup for him. But, no dice.

It’s Ava that walked in, hair neatly curled, the way it is when there’s no surgeries to take care of. “Hello, Dr. Rhodes,” She announced as she walked in, gliding over to where he sat and taking a peek at the tablet in his hands, dipping over his shoulder. “Interesting,” She hummed.

“Hello, Dr. Bekker. What are you doing?” Connor asked, shifting so she couldn’t peek in. Nothing personal, he just didn’t think he could take a snide comment from her right now. 

Ava straightened up, placing her hands behind her back, head tilted. “I came to get my lunch. How about you?”

Connor narrowed his brow, but then gave in. “I am trying to solve what’s so strange about these tests,” He replied, but turned off the tablet and set it down. He leaned back in the chair, glancing at his bag, two lunches, sitting in a chair beside him.

“Very interesting, then.” 

“Isn’t it?”

Ava smirked at his comment, turning to wash off her hands in the sink. She shook them off, the way she always did, the way Connor used to, before turning back towards him. “Boot it up. Maybe I can be of some assistance.”

Connor offered a half-laugh, insisting that she shouldn’t bother, that she should enjoy her lunch. Ava was unconvinced.

“Come on, Connor, let me look,”

“I’ll get it figured out!”

“Maybe I can figure it out before y-”

Her hand, wet, clasped around his wrist as the other finally captured the tablet. Connor froze, and the timer began to click on in his mind. She didn’t let go then, and she didn’t let go when she got the tests up and began to scan them quietly. “Ava, I’m sure I can figure it out,” Connor said, hint of desperation twinging his words oh-so-slightly. She let go of him, but didn’t make it easy to leave.

“Look here. Nobody ever did cultures. Maybe that’s your missing puzzle piece. Or…” She tapped her chin, glancing to him for a moment, just long enough to lower the tablet from her face. “What’s the matter?”

Shit.

“Nothing’s the  _ matter,  _ Dr. Bekker, I’d just like that back and then I’m going to handle it.” He’d tried to wipe off what her hand left with his free hand, but it only smeared; rubbed in. The seconds were going quickly.

Ava’s eyebrow quirked and she set the tablet back down. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

Something’s  _ about  _ to be wrong, Connor thought to himself. In reality he said, “Everything’s fine.”

“Right.”

She began to head for the door, lunch in tow, and Connor thought he’d never seen her walk so slow before. Finally she opened the door and disappeared into the hospital, casting one glance back. Now it was time for Connor to get a move on.

He stood, quickly, and took two quick strides to the door. His hand latched onto the knob, and suddenly he was falling, changing, and the bandaids on his neck were pulsing and he’d ripped up his scrubs again.

He groaned as he landed on the ground, not needing to know what happened to cause this. “Great. Just great.”

He was thankful no one else was on break.

When Will finally made it, Connor had been sitting on the floor for maybe ten minutes.He had managed to cover up once again with his own jacket, but it didn’t hide everything. “Jesus, Connor,” Will said, shutting the door tight before landing on his knees near Connor. There was a bit of a hesitation, before there was contact between them again. Will lifted--straining, the tail was heavy-- and managed to get Connor into a chair, which was better than what he could do alone.

“Thanks,” Connor said, reaching and messing with Will’s hair, getting it out of his eyes. 

Will pulled away when he did. “No, uh, no problem,” He spouted, brushing his hair back where it was with a sniffle. “How long until you’re back to normal?”

Connor shrugged. “Few minutes. I’m pretty dry. There’s just an  _ issue,  _ really.”

“What is it?”

With a motion, Connor pointed to the ripped scrubs sitting with his own jacket. 

Will coughed. His face was red. “Oh.”

Connor shook his head. “There’s an extra set in my locker. Just get it for me and I’ll handle it.”

The redhead nodded, standing to fish it out (haha, fish). When he got it opened, he tossed the set towards Connor and turned around, swaying between his feet ever so slightly. He waited there.

Connor could tell he was focusing on not turning around.

When he was back to normal, he changed in and gave him the okay to stop staring at the window like it would kill him. Will turned; he looked a little queasy. Connor motioned for him to sit down with him.

“That was dangerous. Someone could’ve come in, why didn’t you go to the bathroom?” Will asked the second he was at the table with Connor. Any test results fell out of his thoughts for now.

“Ava did it, I couldn’t just run out the second she grabbed my wrist,” Connor replied, throwing his hands up gently as he leaned back. He glanced at his lunch and perked up though, reaching into the bag and grabbing the extra thermos. He slid it Will’s direction.

“What’s this?”

“For you.”

Will opened it. To say it smelled good was an understatement, and he couldn’t help but smile slightly. “Thanks.”

Connor nodded.

“This still doesn’t make up for how reckless  _ that  _ whole thing was,” Will continued, screwing it shut after a moment of deliberation. 

“I didn’t expect it to,” Connor said, leaning back once more. A pause. “I couldn’t have Ava suspecting me even more, though.”

“She would have  _ suspected  _ you even more if she saw you with a tail!” Will suddenly snapped, smacking his hand on the table, shooting Connor straight up to standing, his hands held up almost defensively.

“I know that, I’m not stupid.”

“Well you’re acting stupid!”

Connor paused before speaking, looking at Will with a different perspective. He looked tired, stressed, and sick. It had gotten cold earlier this year. He thought about the question, rolling it through his mouth a few times before finally presenting it. “Are you okay?”

Will’s shoulders slumped and he leaned his head against one of his arms on the table. “I’m sick and I haven’t taken a day off in about nine days. Ask me that again.”

To an extent, Connor felt the same. The thought of the world around him finding out had been affecting his work skills, made him a little unsure, and certainly a little nervous. There was also something else, sitting right in front of him, that had a habit of adding to his stress. 

An idea, like a lightbulb. It flickered into his mind.

“You and I both should take off for a couple days,” He said, slowly sitting back down. “You especially,” He clarified. 

Will picked his head up and squinted. “Goodwin would never approve losing us both.”

“She’s done it before.”

“I could do one day.”

Ah, bargaining. Connor could probably do this in his sleep. “Five.”

“Are you crazy? Not five!”

“Four, then.”

“Two.”

“Three?”

It was a good middle ground. “Three…” Will repeated, giving it thought, weight, meaning. “What are you proposing we do?”

Connor shrugged. “Go somewhere warmer for a weekend. Somewhere private, too, so we don’t have to worry about anyone seeing us- er, me.”

Slowly, Will nodded, dropping his head back down. “You have to take it to Goodwin,” He said almost pitifully, like he didn’t want to get up(which he didn’t).

“No problem,” Connor said with a shrug, reaching over and messing with his hair again. This time, Will didn’t change it back, and almost leaned into it.Connor smiled, standing again, this time gently. “You better eat that soup, Halstead.”

Will waved his hand, motioning for Connor to go, not picking up his head. He did reach for the thermos, though, grasping it in his hand. It’s a good thing this guy wasn’t contagious.

“So, you and Dr. Halstead need three days? Together? At the same time?” Ms. Goodwin asked, A confused expression on her face as she fumbled with the papers on her desk.

Connor ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it gently, almost frustrated. “He’s sick, asked me to come with him. Simple as that,” He said, lying easy, leaning back in his seat.

Goodwin made a face.

He straightened up immediately.

“You do realize, Dr. Rhodes, that means we’ll end up being understaffed. Are you sure you have to go with him?”

Connor nodded, almost sheepishly. “I realize this puts you in a bad position, but, to be honest, I think it’s the best.”

Goodwin glanced him up and down. The flipping of papers had stopped, her hands gently put in place, resting. She squinted. “Are you planning something, Dr. Rhodes?”

Connor’s cheeks turned pink. Not normally the one to get flustered, he bit his lip before responding. He needed time to think. 

“Kind of.”

Goodwin nodded, face blank.

“You work Christmas Eve this year and we have a deal.”

Connor couldn’t contain his smile, even allowing a chuckle to slip through. “Thanks, Ms. Goodwin. Thanks a lot.”

She smiled too, a gentler one, kinder and calmer than the excitable figure in front of her.

Connor stood, gently, and dipped out of the room. He pulled out his phone, tapping on it attentively until he found Will’s number, put in just yesterday. A yellow flower next to his name, like sunshine. He called.

It rang three times before Will, already home for the night, drearily answered. “Hey.”

“Pack a bag, we’re getting out of here in the morning.”

With a pause, thoughts ticking by, Connor added onto his comment. 

“Bring something you could swim in.”


	5. Bewitchery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And then Will, plugging his nose, dunked under again. He wanted to see the tail where it was meant to be; in the water, in use, where it should be. He reached and touched, pressing against the scales gently, glancing up at Connor. Their eyes met. Will looked away.
> 
> Something was going to happen, and Will could sense it. He could sense it as Connor dipped under with him, not having to hold any breath, just simple, serene. He could sense it when Connor touched Will’s jaw and turned him back towards those blue eyes, the blue eyes that had something to say; an agenda. He couldn’t sense it, though, as he let his nose free and Connor pulled him in and they were close enough to taste, dying for connection.
> 
> And it happened."

The drive out of Illinois and into Missouri was a six hour and nine minute excursion that Will didn’t expect to be taking when he woke up at five in the morning. Connor was outside his house, the house he evidently knew so much about, with the car running and ready to go. It’d be warmer there, Connor had told him over texts the night before, and he had a plan.

Will had dragged his bag out under the sunless sky, still in pajamas, intending to stay comfortable during the long ride. He tossed it in the back of Connor’s car before clambering into the passenger side.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Connor offered with a smile. 

Will waved, stifling a yawn.

“Let’s get a move on.”

Within twenty minutes of driving, Will had fallen back asleep and left Connor to drive alone for a while. Connor didn’t mind. He had brought with him an old binder of CDs from high school to keep the journey chugging along, a hand crafted selection of the best music the nineties had to offer. Currently, the selection was Green Day, on low so that Will could rest peacefully. Connor whistled along, casting a glance towards Will every once in a while. He turned the heat up.

The sun rose a couple hours into the drive, and Will rose with it. He shifted in his seat, sleepily glancing over at Connor. He’d switched CDs to New Kids on the Block. “Really?” Will asked with a snicker, rubbing his eyes and glancing at the radio. There were two coffees in the cupholders between the radio and the console.. 

Connor caught him staring, and quirked a brow. “The one in the back’s yours. Two cream, one sugar. Stopped just before you woke up,” He said, flicking to spray his windshield clean. “And  _ yes,  _ really. Do you have a problem with my music selection?”

“No,” Will said, and when he reached for his coffee he turned it up to listen along. 

They stopped for breakfast at a roadside diner an hour from then. It was old, but in a nice way, and the two slid into opposite sides of a cushioned booth. Connor blew the wrapper of his straw at Will, hitting him square in the nose.

“Nice aim.”

“Thank you, Halstead.”

For a moment, Connor got his hand wet; condensation and all that, but Will was quick to take care of it. It was the first time he’d prevented Connor turning and it worked. It made Connor smile, and Will blush. 

They split their breakfasts like a couple would, and for a moment Will was blissfully unaware of that connotation. It was when someone, a mother, ordered her child to look away that he slowly but surely lost appetite.

“What’s wrong?” Connor asked, blue eyes glimmering with concern.

“Nothing,” Will said, and that was that.

After breakfast, Connor noted that they were already halfway there. Will was awake now, attentive and ready to stay up the next leg of the drive. They talked each other’s ears off; even when Connor wasn’t nervous, he had a knack for talking about a good many things.

“Where are we even going, Connor?” Will asked, acutely aware of how nice it was for his name to roll off his tongue so nonchalantly. He clasped his hands together.

Connor shrugged, as if even he didn’t know. “I’ve got this place that I just figured we could use to get away. Claire lent me the key, begrudgingly. Course, I didn’t tell her you were coming.”

“You mean Claire with the cat that hates you?”

The brunette laughed, reaching with a hand to touch the bandages on his neck. He couldn’t wait to take those off. “Yes, Claire with the cat. My sister, if you remember that much.”

“Is the cat even real?”

A pause.

“Nah.”

Will feigned shock. “You totally had me fooled!”

Connor furrowed his brow.

Will Halstead smiled. “Just kidding. To be honest, that’s the most unbelievable part of this entire thing.”

Connor smiled sheepishly and went to turn the music up.

They spoke like that, on and off and on and off, sharing stories and conversing the most they had since the day Connor rode into the ED on a gurney. Will was happy, though lingering doubt nipped at his thoughts the closer and closer they got to their destination.

With fifteen minutes left to go, Connor pulled off onto a sideroad into some woods. For some reason, worry was the first emotion Will felt. “Are you going to kill me, Rhodes?”

Connor laughed. “Maybe. Depends on how you react to where we’re staying.”

He said nothing else.

In a clearing, Will caught a glimpse of a lake and a little row of houses. They were all gorgeous, private and out by the water, and Will didn’t think he’d ever be able to even afford one of them. Yet, here they were. Connor was about to take him to one of these, and Will was staring out the window like it was the first snow of the season.

As the road wrapped around, Connor did not pull into the first or second, but the third house on the water. It was pristine, looking like it was freshly sold just yesterday, or maybe just empty. The car stopped and Connor retrieved the key, sitting for just a moment before looking at Will. 

“Not bad?” He asked, hoping he’d stick the landing.

Will chuckled gently. “Not bad at all.”

There were four bedrooms to choose from, Will noted as he dropped his stuff into one of the rooms. Each had a bathroom, and all of those bathrooms were bigger than his own “master” bathroom. This place reeked of money, but Will figured he would accept it for right now. 

Connor called from the other room, across the hall. “Meet you in the water, Halstead!”

Will blushed. He was thankful the Chicago cold didn’t follow them here. 

The water was cool, enough to cause an initial shock, but nothing too long lasting. It felt great against his skin; bare, chilling but clean, and almost calming. He dipped under to wet his hair, plugging his nose before coming back up onto the surface. There was a little dock that jutted off the shore and into the lake, and Will pulled himself up onto it, waiting for Connor. He was still in the house, at least, he thought so. However, as time went on, Will with furrowed brow wasn’t so sure anymore.

_ Splash,  _ a wave and whirl out maybe ten feet in front of him. A flash of skin, then shimmering blue scales and a flapping fin. When did he get here, Will wondered, then considered he could have been here before him, getting used to the feeling of being out here.

Connor’s head dipped above the surface, a smile plastered on his face. “I’ve never done this before,” He admitted with a twist of his tail. Not shoved in the bathtub or on the floor, Will could see just how long and powerful it was. A simple shift became a ripple and then a wave, and it was amazing to see. Will was smiling; he didn’t realize.

Connor grabbed Will’s ankles and pulled him in, a devilish expression painted on his features as there was another  _ splash  _ and suddenly they were close together, closer than they had been in a long while. They were breathing as one, close enough to sense.

And then Will, plugging his nose, dunked under again. He wanted to see the tail where it was meant to be; in the water, in use, where it should be. He reached and touched, pressing against the scales gently, glancing up at Connor. Their eyes met. Will looked away.

Something was going to  _ happen,  _ and Will could sense it. He could sense it as Connor dipped under with him, not having to hold any breath, just simple, serene. He could sense it when Connor touched Will’s jaw and turned him back towards those blue eyes, the blue eyes that had something to say; an agenda. He couldn’t sense it, though, as he let his nose free and Connor pulled him in and they were close enough to taste, dying for connection.

And it happened.

A kiss. Gentle, but wanting more. Desperate, like Connor had wanted this the entire time, which had been true. Will fell limp against him, eyes slammed shut, devolving into trusting him, only him. Connor’s tail wrapped around Will’s legs to stabilize them, his arms around his waist, holding a little two low to call it friendly, pressing against the small of his back, pulling him closer. Could any of this be friendly?

Oxygen was their unignorable limiter; Connor wanted to stay like that for as long as possible. He parted hesitantly and sent them up, breaking the surface and sending them back into the sunlight, looking at Will almost anxiously. He expected the worst. They’d only just gotten here, and Connor had gotten impatient, not wanting to wait any longer for something he wanted.

As they broke the surface, Will found time and caught his breath. His face was red;his heart was pounding and his mind was blurring with a feeling he didn’t know how to describe.

He wasn’t gay. He couldn’t be gay. There was absolutely no way. But…

When he grabbed Connor by the shoulders and connected their lips again, falling together like the last pieces to the puzzle, he couldn’t deny the pulse of electricity between them. His eyes shut. His shoulders relaxed; He couldn’t remember the last time they did that. Their scruff rubbed against each other almost uncomfortably, but the different feeling caused the perpetual pit in Will’s stomach to dissipate, replaced with something better, something warmer. He reached a hand and snaked it into Connor’s wet hair, locking into it and holding on. 

Things felt okay, maybe even more than okay. He was home. 


	6. Debauchery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He barely made it out of the door when his legs gave, shaking underneath the weight of his heavy soul. He fell to his knees, like how Connor had when the sun fell below the trees for the night, and the fact that Connor had done that scared him, and scared tears trembled out of him in heavy, painful drops. Connor knew what he was doing. Will hated that he knew what he was doing. His knees were scuffed; carpet-burn. Connor was more careful. He coughed, no, wheezed, no, choked, and fell weak against the floor, and the first of many strong sobs screamed their way out of him like a siren, and then he couldn’t move. He wished gravity would hurry up and pull him through the floor, deeper and deeper until surrounded by fire and hopelessness, all deserved, all warranted.
> 
> He wished he was home again. He slept.

It was two in the morning, and Will Halstead was in bed with Connor Rhodes. He was here last night, and he recalls it better than he recalls his own mother. It’s fresh in his mind; captivating all his thoughts and filling all his senses. 

It smelled like _ sex _ in the air, a heavy and disgusting feeling as he laid there, and he wished it wasn’t so strong but… just like last night, Connor was asleep on his shoulder, close, recovering from what had happened, holding him. Comforting him. Will’s arm was around his body, and he could feel the deep breaths of sleep against him. Maybe this is alright, he said to himself, a thought, a hope, but then he shook his head. It couldn’t be _ alright. _

He wanted to _ move; _to jerk his arm away, to push Connor aside and leave in the dead of night and never be found again. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to walk into that lake and never come back out, to drown his sorrows and drown himself. It felt violent because it was violent, a punishment for thinking this would be okay.

However.

Another part of him, a repressed, hurting, and yearning piece Will had forced under the surface, forced into hiding, forced under the floorboards and into the closets, wanted to stay like this forever. In his heart the piece echoed, causing pain in his chest and storm clouds in his mind. He tried to shut his eyes, the same way he had tried to shut his eyes night before, but tonight it wasn’t working. He needed to sleep; he needed to clear his mind of everything that was happening so quickly and so hurriedly, to disappear for a few hours. A deep breath. His shoulders stopped tensing for just a moment and he thought with finality that it was going to be okay, and that for a few short hours he would be able to forget, to move on. Coffee and rain filled his nostrils once more, overwhelming, underwhelming, loving, hating, and he thought he could relax.

Realization tied his abdomen into a knot. The scent punctured his lungs. It was him.

Connor shifted beside him; awake, wide awake. Perhaps he could sense Will’s distress, but also perhaps he simply needed to shift into a fresh, more comfortable position. He rolled over, off of his back and onto his stomach, slipping his arm around Will so much that it caused him to jolt. His eyes snapped open and his breath hitched, wide eyed as he sat up quickly, then slowly, then fell back down.

The brunette was barely awake, but he was aware enough to pull himself to a sitting position to see Will. “Are you alright?” he murmured, reaching and touching Will’s messied hair, brushing it slowly into place.

Hesitantly, like he had something to say and could never find the word, Will found it easier just to nod. It was forceful, weak, and he was weak, weak to Connor, weak to the ever watching eyes of the whole wide world. Connor moved again; sitting up, leaning his back against the headboard, he pulled Will’s head into his lap. He stared forward at the door that connected them to the rest of the universe. It was white; unassuming, but it held in so many secrets. In the night it had slipped ajar, just a tinge, like worry, exposure.

Will fell limp against him, and when Connor touched his hair he trembled without intending it. Something was _ wrong. _ This was _ wrong, _and he had to go. So, he rose, no, struggled from the bed, like it was holding him down, or holding him close. He couldn’t tell the difference, never learned how. 

He had to pick his _ shirt _ up from the ground; It felt embarrassing. Thankfully his pants were still on, and thankfully Connor’s _ sweatpants _ were too. At some point they weren’t on, and he knew that there was nothing underneath them. The thought made Will’s stomach start to twist and _ rot. _He had to leave, and he had to leave quickly before he was throwing up in front of Connor. He didn’t know why it mattered to him that he couldn’t get sick in front of him.

He barely made it out of the door when his legs gave, shaking underneath the weight of his heavy soul. He fell to his knees, like how Connor had when the sun fell below the trees for the night, and the fact that Connor had done that scared him, and scared tears trembled out of him in heavy, painful drops. Connor knew what he was doing. Will hated that he knew what he was doing. His knees were scuffed; carpet-burn. Connor was more careful. He coughed, no, wheezed, no, choked, and fell weak against the floor, and the first of many strong sobs screamed their way out of him like a siren, and then he couldn’t move. He wished gravity would hurry up and pull him through the floor, deeper and deeper until surrounded by fire and hopelessness, all deserved, all warranted.

He wished he was home again. He slept.

When he woke again, he was in the room he had picked when they first arrived. He was in the bed. Sunlight streamed in through the windows like knives, and they hurt his eyes. He didn’t move just yet, afraid to greet the day, afraid to look around and find Connor Rhodes again, afraid to look him in the eyes. 

He wasn’t here.

He could finally sit up and adjust the white sheets he was wrapped him. He didn’t feel rested; though he had blocked most of the night out, he knew what had happened. In the window he could see the faint _ splash _in the lake. Connor was out there. He looked stressed.

Will rose, truly this time, though it didn’t feel graceful. He had a shirt on now, which he didn’t remember putting on. Had Connor done this? He hoped not.

And yet, he couldn’t help but wander out of the back door and towards the dock.

Connor was swimming laps, under and above water, back and forth, looking distressed. His phone was sitting on the edge of the dock, and though Will didn’t want to look, he caught a passing glance. A missed call from Ava.

The redhead watched Connor unassumingly, clasping his hands together, his shoulders falling ever so slightly. He wondered if what happened last night was a dream, a nightmare, or the most frightening of all: reality. His brown eyes, tired with a sickness, found himself looking at Connor again and he felt his heart rate speed, and it was a confirmation he hated to hear.

He loved Connor Rhodes in a way he had loved no other. He felt connected; a need to protect and cherish the man. It hurt to love him, formed a pit in his stomach and constricted his throat, made it hard to breathe, made his cheeks burn and his eyes sting. It was something that couldn’t be true, and yet it was, undoubtedly so, and like a gunshot, it hurt that it was true. His toes curled. 

Connor spotted him, finally, and swam towards him, hesitating for a moment before dipping his head back above water. Once again, hesitation plagued him. A moment, and then he pulled himself up into sitting next to Will. They did not touch. Connor looked at him, and then the redhead’s clasped hands, and then the rippling, cloudy water. 

“Im sorry,” They both said, but who said it first would go unknown. 

Perhaps Will said it first; sorry for last night, the night before that, and the year before that. Sorry for the way I’ve been acting, for worrying too much, for worrying too little. Sorry for making Connor come all the way out here. Sorry for accepting something he wasn’t sure he could have. 

On the other hand, Connor could have uttered it first. He could have said sorry for last night too, for their moment in the elevator that sparked the flame, for throwing his own problems into Will’s lap. Sorry for allowing Ava to pry and nearly discover, for not fighting her, for not fighting his feelings for him. Sorry for giving something Will couldn’t take. Sorry for breaking into his house because his fear of discovery had taken over all of his senses.

But, there is no way to know who said it first, nor what it was for. All that was known was that it was said, and that there was weight to it.

Will stood first, partially because Connor had not returned to normal. He looked out into the trees and wished he was kissing Connor again. “We should leave soon,” He managed.

Connor nodded gently, silent as the tomb he’d buried their blossoming love in.


	7. Malingery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Glad you finally decided to show up,” She said with a gentle chuckle, pulling him into a hug which after a beat he graciously reciprocated. It was when he looked up through the window and saw Connor’s careful gaze that he had to let go and pull apart.
> 
> Natalie looked at him inquisitively, her mouth curving only slightly. Will’s ears were almost ringing. “Is something wrong?”
> 
> Is something wrong. Will didn’t know how to answer, now to think up a response, because his eyes were watching Connor’s every move, every breath, every blink. Something was wrong, and he certainly couldn’t be the one to tell her that.

Will had been over his cold since before the trip he took with Connor, but that was two disgustingly long days ago and he was still hiding away at home. That made it five days without setting foot into work, five days without speaking to Natalie, his closest confidant, rather, his only confidant since before  _ Connor _ , and it was weighing on him, the tip top of a pile of unpacked hopelessness. He hated this; avoiding calls, texts, contacts, like he was studying for some late night college test and had put his phone on do not disturb. What was the subject of this exam, though? Connor? It simply couldn’t be Connor. Will wouldn’t allow it. He refused to spend all this time thinking about him. No, the subject was himself, and what he was supposed to do after all that had happened in those days on the water.

He couldn’t avoid it forever. He couldn’t avoid  _ him  _ forever, nor could he avoid the way his lips parted gently against Will’s, or when he pressed against him desperately under the-

It made Will sick to his stomach to think about.

His phone buzzed and blinked, lighting up the dim bedroom he’d walled himself up in, and he glanced towards it, half-intrigued. Jay’s name popped across screen with a text message, and for a moment he considered ignoring it like all the others. However, Jay was his little brother, a cop as well, and this was a different kind of connection. Certainly the last thing Will wanted to do was get the entire Chicago Police Department worried for him. So, he slid his finger across the glass and opened the notification.

_ drinks tonight?  _ Jay’s crisp texting diction questioned, and Will rolled his eyes with a huff.

_ What’s your goal?  _ He sent back, watching and waiting for the read symbol to arrive.

It hesitated for a moment, a pause, so he set the phone back down onto his nightstand, glancing at his carpeted floors. It was unkempt, more than usual, and with a swivel he swung out of bed and placed his feet onto them. His toes curled as he glanced out his window; The midday Chicago sky was cloudless, bright, and the polar opposite of how he felt. 

Another buzz, and he snatched his phone back into placed.

_ no goal. just miss my bro _

_ _ Will exhaled through his nose with a gentle huff, but he couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly. Leave it to Jay to know what to do.

_ my place tonight @ 7 got it? _

_ _ Another ping from Jay, and Will was at least thankful he wasn’t making him go out in public for the night. He rose. 

_ You got it  _ He sent with a hint of finality, shoving his phone in his pocket and heading out of the room.

He showered, hesitant when he passed the still-packed bag from his and Connor’s trip, and felt fresher, lighter because of it. He’d blocked what had happened, at least for now, while he couldn’t see Connor.

That night, he took the slow but steady drive to his brother’s apartment with a jacket and his old friend Jack Daniel’s in the passenger seat. He felt tense, but couldn’t pinpoint why, especially with how low-energy the night was going to be.

At least, he thought that was how it would be before he parked next to a familiar car on the street near Jay’s complex.

Natalie.

Naturally, the woman wasn’t  _ exactly  _ who he was avoiding, but the shell-shock that came from seeing his close friend exiting her car was enough to make his toes curl. He had parked, but threw it back after a second of hesitation. He had to keep avoiding this; avoiding her, and now avoiding Jay, which became the final nail in the coffin. This was a problem for tomorrow, Will decided as he drove away, avoiding the glance Natalie cast at him with a nervous focus on the road.

When tomorrow came, of course, he wished it was a problem for the next day, or the day after that. But, he had promised to come back or risk losing his job, and that was just too much to avoid all at once, too overwhelming and underwhelming to deal with.

So, there he was, walking into the ED with a strong coffee and his jacket zipped up trying to keep a low profile before bumping shoulders with Ava Bekker once again. Why was she always down here?

“Nice to see you again, Dr. Halstead,” she murmured, and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, hardly noticeable. Was that a twinge of coldness spilling past her lips? “Haven’t seen you around. Where’d you disappear to?”

He nodded at her, politely but coldly, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. “Nowhere in particular, Dr. Bekker. Took days off for a cold.”

She squinted, but let it go, stepping- no, stalking towards the elevators. Will watched her go, but looked away when she cast a gaze over her shoulder. He finally started to turn and keep moving, though he couldn’t shake the feeling she left behind. He put his stuff away in the lounge, dipping his head ever so gently before turning and-

Natalie, again. Another girl with a confused, almost worried look on her face, and it was only eight in the morning. The difference, of course, was that Natalie was kinder and more careful, checking on her friend first before prying for information. Ava simply wanted to know things; Natalie wanted to understand things.

“Hey, Nat,” Will offered, hands falling nervously behind his back, locking eyes with her and hoping she didn’t see straight through him. He felt like a gust of wind could topple him over

“Glad you finally decided to show up,” She said with a gentle chuckle, pulling him into a hug which after a beat he graciously reciprocated. It was when he looked up through the window and saw Connor’s careful gaze that he had to let go and pull apart.

Natalie looked at him inquisitively, her mouth curving only slightly. Will’s ears were almost ringing. “Is something wrong?”

_ _ _ Is something wrong.  _ Will didn’t know how to answer, now to think up a response, because his eyes were watching Connor’s every move, every breath, every blink. Something was wrong, and he certainly couldn’t be the one to tell her that.

She followed his gaze, his gaze towards Connor Rhodes, the mermaid in disguise that had thrown Will into a dark and unforgiving pit. Hesitantly, but understanding--she wasn’t  _ stupid--  _ all the same, she nodded and asked nothing more. 

“It’s good to see you again,” She said, drawing him into a hug that felt like it shouldn’t have happened. He slipped his arms around her form, holding a second longer than he should have. She felt different than him, and he hated to make the comparison.

Connor began to head towards the elevators and, like Ava, cast a glance back at Will that reeked of finality.

He let go. 

Detached was the main emotion Will felt as he went through the motions of his first day back. He wasn’t the best communicator anymore, his mind elsewhere, only turned on and fully focused when a group of three car crash victims slammed through the doors. He stayed busy, avoiding Connor the best he could and when they were in the same room he didn’t speak to him. 

At lunch he ate his own sorry sandwich and wished he had soup or someone to talk to. He hadn’t noticed until now how much dedicated time he spent with Connor, speaking to Connor, being near Connor and the smell of coffee and rain flooding his senses and feeling hopeless but hopeful all at the same time. 

When his shift came to a close, he made contact with the brunette, sharing the lounge together for a moment, and the simple connection was like lightning; a jolt made his heart flutter and begin to pound and his stomach twisted in knots, wanted and unwanted, and he longed to either pull Connor in or to throw him out, and if he had time to think before his fight of flight kicked in, he might have done both..

“Hey, I  _ seriously  _ need your help, A-” Connor began.

Will stepped away, grabbing his jacket, his keys. He couldn’t listen. An inkling of frustration churned in his stomach. He stomped out, shoving past the defensive figure that occupied the doorway.

“Will-” Connor called, to no avail, anger, perhaps even desperation dripping from his words. In the back of Will’s mind as he continued stepping out and away, he could tell what had happened. He knew it would happen this morning the second the elevator doors opened, and that if he wanted to keep himself okay, to act in his own interest rather than others, there would be nothing he could do but to wait and hope a resolution weaved its way into reality.

And so Will went home, dragging his feet, wishing he had another five days to hide and recover from the events of just one. When he collapsed; on the couch, not the bed, he was too tired to make it that far, his phone buzzed and buzzed and buzzed.

Ignored.

It was him.

The missed calls piled in, a group of three, and then the text messages came next.

_ I’m sorry about what happened but I need your help and I don’t know what to do. _

_ _ _ Will we don’t have to talk about it I will forget _

_ _ _ Please _

_ _ In a moment of frustration, he tossed the phone down on the ground, hearing an all too familiar  _ crack  _ of the screen. Just great. He held onto the necklace that remained ever present around him, and as his blood began to boil he thought about snapping it off too, breaking it into pieces. He didn’t know why he was so upset, at least, he pretended he didn’t know. It was simply easier that way. 

A part of him… the same part that he hoped to suffocate and repress and forget, wished he was helping but knew he could not. It was out of his hands now; he’d decided this before he could second guess any more than he did every day since he arrived at home still thinking of Connor’s gentle touch and soft gaze.

It hurt. It  _ always  _ had to hurt he had come to realize, to rip away from someone you couldn’t care for when the roots had already settled. But, like a weed, it would spread, and he had to nip it in the bud and forget. This would be tomorrow’s problem once again, Will decided, drifting off into a dreamless sleep, feeling more like drowning than he ever had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr @plumfulkiss; talk to me about this fic ;)


	8. Treachery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What?” Connor suddenly snapped, his head shooting up, more afraid than angry. “Maggie, you can’t send me up there. Give me five minutes, just five and I’ll-”
> 
> Maggie started at the pager in her hands. “What else am I supposed to do, Connor?”
> 
> The brunette fell quiet. Ava looked pleased.

Something was wrong, once again, and Will could smell it in the air. The same phone he had cracked the night before was now buzzing with fretful life, and were he in the mood he would have tossed it again. 

It was the amount of missed calls, not just from Connor but from Natalie, that caused a shift in his emotions about the former man. Five from him; then, not soon after, three from her. He wasn’t late, or missing, and the amount of calls were in such quick succession that it was perhaps… worrying.

Will tapped the name of his friend, finding her easier to talk to after all that had happened. She picked up after one ring.

“Will-” Her breathy voice was anxious, and Will shifted his weight to his other foot, “-I _ need _you to tell me what’s going on between you and Connor.”

Will paused, feeling exposed though he was alone. “I- there’s nothing going on between me and Connor. What’s going on?”

Natalie exhaled. Will could almost visualize her eyes glancing around whatever room she was in, perhaps out of windows or into doorways. She was on her break, or taking a breather from whatever was going on just beyond her phone.

“He and Ava have been at it all day, and I know you went with him somewhere when you took those days off. It won’t leave my lips, I just need you to tell me _ anything _you ca-”

From somewhere beyond the microphone Natalie spoke into, there was a clattering of metal, then a clattering of voices too. Shouting. Connor shouting to be let go, to be left alone. Will shifted his weight again, needing to move as he listened to it. 

Somewhere, not by the phone, Ethan yelled for them to stop. Things got louder, louder, crescendoing into a sudden, breathless silence. 

“Ava,” Ethan reprimanded, and the sound of her name was enough to cause Will to hang up, couldn’t bear to listen. He understood what she knew and now had to repair it. It was his duty, and he knew it was his duty, no matter how much it stung behind his eyes and in his throat to know it. 

No matter, though. The longer he sat here the more likely it was for things to escalate and he had to try to stop whatever was happening while it was still possibly in his control. Hurriedly he scrambled into action and out the front door. 

The drive was rushed into slow traffic, the kind of traffic that made Will’s temper flare, the kind of steering-wheel-smacking traffic that only added to the burden of stress. A five minute ride took twenty minutes, and Will feared the worst. 

He barely parked when he arrived. A fleeting moment wondered if things would all be okay, but… as the crowd of people outside the doors thickened, the thought fell, disproven. 

“Connor!” Will exclaimed, skidding to a stop after clambering through the sliding doors. The name felt whole again spilling past his lips, but he hated the circumstance. “Ava, what are you doing?”

Ava had him pinned—a feat Will didn’t know was possible—in an all-too-suspicious puddle of water. Connor struggled against her, and his eyes were violently scanning the room. There were people everywhere, glancing in their direction and watching nervously. Laying here as the seconds clicked on and on, allowing his secret to be exposed, would be the worst possible option. Struggling hard enough to knock Ava off of him and get the upper hand might be even worse. 

“He tried to strike me, Will,” Ava said, her voice dripping with a cynic articulation that was hard to pinpoint with an untrained ear. Her eye twitched as she looked at him, not looking away. Will did. 

He looked at Natalie, who stood behind the desk, phone in hand. She slowly shook her head. Her cheek was red. Had she been hit? Ethan was missing, but had certainly been here before. 

Connor shook his head, eyes squeezing shut and his heart pounding as he tried to push her off. His face was wet, his shirt too. This wasn’t something that could be dried off. Ava _ really _ knew. “I did not! You have been following me for we- Ava, get _ off- _ A-“ 

As words began to stutter out, it was clear to Connor, strikingly so, that he was having a panic attack. He hadn’t had one in years; the last one in his memory might have been the night before his high school graduation as he realized he couldn’t stay here any longer, had to get out. Its almost ironic that he came back here. There were so many eyes, watching him, so many people about to discover, and there was nothing that he could do to stop it. He felt vulnerable. 

And then Will grabbed Ava and picked her up off of him long enough for Connor to get free. He looked petrified, frozen. “Run,” Will ordered, and Connor tried to do as he was told. 

Ava struggled against Will angrily, balling her fists before tearing away from him. “Let _ go _of me!” She cried, trying to pry and shuck herself out of his grasp.

As Connor pulled himself up, positively soaked all down his front, a pang of throat-tightening fear rang in his stomach like a gong. 

There wasn’t any time left. It was over. 

His eyes locked with Will—blue, pleading, flecking green and shimmering like scales—and then they fell to the floor, the one his gaze was getting closer and closer to as he fell to the ground. 

There was no gasp when the sparkling fins and tail appeared, sprouting from where Connor’s ashamed legs should have been. Unlike shock, it was silent as the tomb, the tomb Connor tried to bury things away in, the tomb he almost wished he was in right now. 

Quietly, slowly, Will let Ava go. She had frozen too; her arms were behind her back, her chin tilted upwards, her gaze staring delightfully at Connor as if to say ‘I knew it all along’. She clasped her hands and then turned to everyone as if delivering a presentation. “Connor is a mermaid,” She said, and then her brow furrowed. A gentle pout, rather, the facade of one painted her crisp features. “I don’t think he should stay here.”

Will crouched down by Connor, not looking in his eyes but knowing the brunette had to have someone right now. He dug himself out of his jacket and—hesitant, like the first time he touched the shimmering scales that now glowed in the medically fluorescent lights—covered up a solid part of his tail under it. 

Connor was shaking, but managed a slight smile, forced but easier than the words. Thank you. 

You’re welcome. 

Maggie, with heavy lidded gaze, glanced at Connor before locking on Ava. She took a deep breath; the entire room could see her shoulders rise, hesitate, then fall. She almost glanced at Connor again, staring at the ground, ashamed and exposed, or maybe she almost saw Will, equally exposed, wearing protection on his sleeve as he quietly slung an arm around Connor. 

She opened her mouth, clutching the pager in her hands. There was no protocol for mermaid in the middle of the ED. “...April,” She began, glancing towards the woman on her left, finally taking her eyes away from the nightmare scene in front of her, “You and Dr. Choi… get Connor upstairs. I’ll call and have them prep a room.”

“What?” Connor suddenly snapped, his head shooting up, more afraid than angry. “Maggie, you can’t send me up there. Give me five minutes, just _ five _ and I’ll-”

Maggie started at the pager in her hands. “What else am I supposed to do, Connor?”

The brunette fell quiet. Ava looked pleased. 

Will tightened his grip on Connor when April and Ethan leaned down to lift him and his tail into a chair, but Connor, whose eyes had grown surprisingly dull, parted their connection. Will resized what had happened and shifted back, sliding onto the floor. 

He watched Connor go with his head in his hands. 

And then, standing, Will took Ava’s wrist in his grasp and dragged her into the lounge. The door shut behind them both with a clattering; the ED had to go back to normal. 

“What the _ hell _ was that.” Will ordered more than asked, unable to take his eyes off of her. 

Ava crossed her arms. “It’s dangerous to have someone like him in the hospital. I don’t suppose you know how it works?”

“It’s none of my _ business _how it works, Ava! He isn’t a patient!” Will snapped, having to turn, smack his hand against a table to avoid a conflict. 

Ava feigned a hurt expression. Softly she murmured, “He is now,” and took a step closer to Will. “I thought you didn’t care a tick about Connor, Dr. Halstead.”

Will hesitated, but only for a second. He did care. “I know why you’re doing this.”

Ava raised a brow, tempting him to try her. He did not back down. 

“You’re just mad he’s better than _ you _ and always will be, so the second you had a chance to make him vulnerable you took I-“

A smack, hard across the face. Will took a step back, knocked, and Ava bore up on him. 

“You shut up.” 

A reaction. Will had good reaction times when he needed them. 

“Never.”

He grabbed her arms, glaring her in the eyes. Hers froze. His burned. “Ava Bekker, you are a selfish  _ bitch _ for doing this. In front of the entire hospital, no less. Mind your business and  _ get out of here. _ ”

He let her go and pushed past her. The ever-present pit in his stomach dissipated. 

He had to find Connor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr @plumfulkiss


	9. Thievery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie called for him, giving him the fourth patient in the last hour, and suddenly it clicked how uneasily things were sitting, especially today. He approached the counter, leaning against it, staring at her. 
> 
> “Do you know where he is?” He asked, not accusatory, at least, not yet. She raised her brows at him as his furrowed. Accusation arrived. “You do, don’t you?”
> 
> “Will-”
> 
> He tapped his hand on the counter, halfway between a touch and a smack. “Everybody knows but me, is that it? We’re all just going to pretend what Ava did was okay and let her stick around and do whatever she pleases upstairs but we wipe Connor off the map? Is that it, Maggie?”
> 
> “Shush.” She ordered, grabbing the collar of his scrubs and pulling him into leaning over the counter. “I’m not supposed to tell you. Sharon can’t tell you either. If anyone knows something, they can’t tell you.”

It had been three weeks, nine hours, and eleven minutes since Connor had been taken away into the mysterious  _ upstairs  _ Will was told he had no business looking around in. Whether or not this was true, he wasn’t sure he could argue on simply because he’d been too busy to even try looking. He wanted to; don’t get him wrong. However, Maggie kept him busy, along with everyone else. Like before, his emotions fell to the wayside, pushed down, as he focused more and more on work and not on what could be happening somewhere above his head.

He tried once, though. During a lunch break he went to Ms. Goodwin’s office, just to hear a hint of what had happened. She told him that it was out of her hands now, which was worrying, but she tried to dissipate that and send him back on his way. Connor was  _ fine,  _ she asserted, and promised to look into where he was at as soon as she had a free moment.

That was two weeks ago.

The longer he went without seeing Connor, this time not of his own choice, the more he felt a shift in the dynamic he had with everyone else. Natalie, for instance, had cornered him two days after he was sent away, needing answers.

“I don’t have all of them,” He began to answer, but then struggled to find the words. “He… he asked for my help so, so I helped him.”

Natalie glanced over her shoulder, then at the ceiling. “And?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

She smiled, perhaps forced but all the while careful. “And it was history.”

History inferred that it was over. Will shook his head.

Today was another day, day twenty one since Connor had gone. He didn’t have his phone; Will confirmed this when he saw it sitting on the lounge counter twenty one days ago. Nobody had ever come to get it for him, and he couldn’t deliver it, so it sat in his little nook and waited. He would look at it when he came in and when he left to take it with him. It was dead by now; he thought to charge it once but didn’t want to intrude. Now it was sitting there by his keys.

Maggie called for him, giving him the fourth patient in the last hour, and suddenly it clicked how uneasily things were sitting, especially today. He approached the counter, leaning against it, staring at her. 

“Do you know where he is?” He asked, not accusatory, at least, not yet. She raised her brows at him as his furrowed. Accusation arrived. “You do, don’t you?”

“Will-”

He tapped his hand on the counter, halfway between a touch and a smack. “Everybody knows but me, is that it? We’re all just going to pretend what Ava did was okay and let her stick around and do whatever she pleases upstairs but we wipe Connor off the map? Is that it, Maggie?”

“Shush.” She ordered, grabbing the collar of his scrubs and pulling him into leaning over the counter. “I’m not supposed to tell you. Sharon can’t tell you either. If anyone knows something, they  _ can’t  _ tell you.”

“Why not?” Will practically pleaded.

Maggie’s gaze didn’t meet his, instead glancing past him, out the windows, where a large van was getting loaded with…  _ something.  _ Will followed it, and things snapped. He twisted back around. “ _ Maggie,  _ he’s not-”

She bit her lip.

“He is, isn’t he? Do you know where he’s going?” Will questioned, suddenly buzzing with adrenaline and worry. What would they do?

Maggie shook her head. “I just was told to keep you busy today.”

For some reason, this struck Will in the wrong way. He tossed his hands up, angry, and then brought them down on the counter. “Who’s got him? Does Goodwin know? Wh-”

“Goodwin knows what I know, and it’s out of her hands.” Maggie murmured lowly, seriously. “It’s got to do with the board, maybe even PD or someone even higher.”

“My  _ brother  _ knows about this?”

“I didn’t say that!”

Will’s heart was pounding in his ears. Anger turned to misery. “Maggie…” He spike, dripping with worry, realizing that he shouldn’t have just sat here and done what he was told for the past twenty one days.

He sighed, teeth tugging on his lip. “ _ What do I do now?” _

She touched his arm gently, silent, almost mourning. “We’ll figure out something, Will.”

He shook his head, casting a glance back at the now departing vehicle. If they weren’t figuring something out yet, they likely never would. Suddenly the lightbulb clicked on in his head. Will glanced back at Maggie, eyes suddenly glimmering bright with ideas. “I… I think I have to go home early, Mags.”

Maggie smiled, crossing her arms over her chest, quirking a brow. For a moment she wondered if she should tell him everything, but knew there was no time. They would meet again, and she would tell him then. For now there was a car driving away and a boy about to chase after. 

“Go get him, Halstead.”

Will was out the door. 

It had been three weeks, ten hours, and twenty five minutes since Connor was taken away, and Will was following behind him in his rinky-dink car out of Chicago. It was a slow ride, which wasn’t necessarily bad, but it gave Will time to think about what he was doing. Chasing after a  _ boy,  _ of all things, because he cared about him and couldn’t let him disappear. Following wherever he led, or, rather, was being led to, because he didn’t get to apologize for not protecting him the way he should. Falling forever in love, which was a strong word that Will didn’t think he should use about Connor until now.

The car turned off onto a side road, and Will followed, slipping his spare pair of sunglasses over his face. It would be clear he was tracking the van, but hopefully not as clear that he was  _ Will Halstead  _ tracking the van.

It swerved slightly and he tapped the breaks, trying to catch a glance of what was happening through the tinted windows. He saw a shadow shifting, standing, and then there was another  _ swerve  _ and the back doors tore open. 

Will slammed on the breaks as Connor quite literally fell out of the vehicle, shooting forward in his seat from the sudden stop of movement. Their eyes met, but it didn’t feel whole. 

For lack of a better word, Connor looked sick. He was pale; coated in sweat and looking a little hollow in the cheeks. There was bruising along his arms from being hooked up to something. His footing wasn’t the most stable, seeing as he near ate pavement directly after shooting out from the van doors. Something was missing, and it occurred to Will that it might not be at surface level. 

Behind him, horns honked and the van shoved to a stop as well, pulled over to the side of the road. Someone was getting out, and Will was too. 

He slammed the door of his car and it shivered, taking off in front of him and literally running into Connor, grappling him. His hands fell into place, knotted into Connor’s hair and around his waist, and they were closer than ever before, and it was okay. 

“Hey,” Connor murmured, his voice struggling. Lack of use or perhaps emotion had pinned his throat shut. 

Will smiled, but then it wasn’t okay. The people—wearing black, shades, concealing their faces—were stomping towards the two, and fast. 

Will watched them, a delayed reaction beginning to form, almost too late. “Get in the car,” he murmured, and then, louder, “Get— Get in the car, Connor, we’ve got to go-”

And the two were scrambling, near tripping, back into the car, tossing seatbelts on and pulling back into driving, only to realize that ( _ legally)  _ there was nowhere else to go. “Shit,” Will said under his breath, glancing towards Connor, then at the people now running their way. Another blaring  _ honk  _ from behind them both. Will tossed the car forward, not thinking, adrenaline-fueled, and suddenly here they were in a god-damn  _ car chase  _ like in a crime movie. Was this crime? Will couldn’t tell, but he certainly hoped not.

Connor grabbed onto the safety handle above his head, grappling it and leaning forward in his seat. He might have been yelling as Will  _ swerved  _ back into place on the road, but the blood pulsing in his veins was a little too loud for comfort. Will tossed his head behind him, watching as the van loaded back up and tried to follow the same path. Another slew of curses fell from his mouth, or perhaps Connor’s mouth, and they had a long way to go. 

“We’ve got to lose them when we merge back on,” Connor said, a little drowsy but alert enough to be watching the van over his shoulder as well, still holding on. Will nodded, not strong enough for words.

When they were back onto the main road, Will practically floored it, changing lanes whenever possible and  _ definitely  _ breaking a law or two, but with enough time the van was nowhere in sight, still on the road but further back, a blip along the horizon. For the first time Will could relax, take a breath, think about what on Earth he was doing, and where he was going.

Connor took a breath, and Will glanced at him, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Nice to see you again,” Will offered, and Connor smiled too, almost bashful, dazed.

Wait, dazed? His eyes looked droopy and his hands were shaking.

“Connor, what’s wrong?” Will asked, dropping a hand onto Connor’s thigh to keep him grounded in reality.

The brunette’s hand fell over it, clasped, enough to make Will shudder. Cold. “They… _put _stuff in me. Knocks me out...” He murmured, brow furrowing in thought as things got dimmer and dimmer. “I’m fine,” He continued, looking to Will and smiling, still trying to make the connection in his mind, confused. He finally got it and glanced up brightly. “Ketamine.”

Hesitantly, Will nodded, glancing in his mirror again and shifting to grabbing Connor’s hand quietly. “Get some sleep then, Rhodes. I’ve got it under control.”

Connor nodded, shifting in his seat to lean back. His eyes shut and he was out like a light almost immediately. 

Will let go, rolling his shoulders, watching the endless road ahead of him. He wondered if he could ever turn back around, go home. He wondered if this was all worth it. This was a lot deeper-rooted than he had realized this morning, and all for Connor? His phone buzzed and he reached to silence it while he had time, watching the road, watching the sky, watching Connor.

Something told him that things would work out, be fine, but then he saw the missed calls from Natalie Manning and Ava Bekker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr @plumfulkiss
> 
> final chapter will post november 6th/7th


	10. Periphery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Should I call someone?” Will asked and Connor shook his head, hiding his nervous hands in his lap. 
> 
> “It’s not safe,” He said, and Will agreed. “Nothing feels safe,” Connor continued, and there was a certain darkness in his face that the redhead wished he could remedy. 
> 
> He sat down next to Connor, taking a pause, a breath, before pulling Connor against him, allowing him to lean on his shoulder, closer than before. They breathed together,and Will noticed that it sounded almost uneven on Connor’s side. There was an occasional hitch and chitter as they sat there, and when Will grabbed Connor’s hand he realized the brunette was crying.

Connor and Will arrived back at the house by the lake as the sun began to dip behind the trees, becoming night time. It was the only place outside of Chicago Will could think of going; the only place that felt safe for right now. He owed that to the secrecy of the last time they were here, how it felt like he and Connor were off the map and could sink into the water and never come back up for air. 

Connor was in and out of sleep, from the Ketamine, from the exhaustion of the day, so Will was mostly alone. The two missed calls never faltered from lingering on the screen of his phone, and he was undoubtedly avoiding returning them. He blamed it on how tired Connor looked, how sick Connor looked, how stressful the drive had become, but he knew that wasn’t it. Truthfully, he worried about Ava’s motive, or what she would try next. Why was she doing this, and what was the missing piece to this puzzle that would lead her to expose Connor to not only his friends but the world? He found it hard to comprehend.

He put the car in park with a jolt strong enough to wake Connor up again. He yawned, stretching his bruised arms, allowing the hem of his shirt to rise slightly, all calculated before allowing his arms to fall once again, tossing his seatbelt free a little lazily. They hadn’t spoken much, and Will did nothing to remedy this, only watching. So this was how it would be, huh? Whether he wanted to or not, this was good for him, impossible to deny.

Will and Connor disconnected from Will’s rickety car and began to stumble into the house quietly under the beginnings of night-time cover. The door shut behind them, and they finally felt free; private. Will, still in his scrubs, suddenly wished he could change his clothes. Connor looked comfortable.

“Thank you, by the way,” Connor offered, breaking their silence and bringing Will close, grabbing his arms and pulling them around him. The height difference between them—small but powerful—made him look up at the redhead. Their eyes met. Will didn’t need to(or even get to) respond, because their lips connected.

It was electric. A jolt between them caused Will to practically jerk away, but never disconnect, instead grabbing closer. They hit the door, or perhaps the wall; Connor couldn’t tell and didn’t care. Hands were in hair, feelings splayed out around them, on the shining wood floors that their shoes clicked and clacked against. It was perfection, a missed feeling, but then Connor was pulling away, slumping against him, ankle rolling, a pang in his stomach.

Will caught him, arms around his waist, and he pulled him into the room they had shared last time they were there and deposited him there. “Connor, what’s going on?”

Connor was more alert than he had been all day, staring down at his legs and running a hand through his hair. “It feels asleep,” He offered, not like that would help. He and Will ran through possible causes in their heads, coming up empty. It wasn’t like they could do tests, either.

“Should I call someone?” Will asked and Connor shook his head, hiding his nervous hands in his lap. 

“It’s not safe,” He said, and Will agreed. “Nothing feels safe,” Connor continued, and there was a certain darkness in his face that the redhead wished he could remedy. 

He sat down next to Connor, taking a pause, a breath, before pulling Connor against him, allowing him to lean on his shoulder, closer than before. They breathed together,and Will noticed that it sounded almost uneven on Connor’s side. There was an occasional hitch and chitter as they sat there, and when Will grabbed Connor’s hand he realized the brunette was crying.

Will suddenly felt remorseful, and he wished he could say he didn’t know why. He shouldn’t have left Connor, shouldn’t have ghosted him or ignored him, because, at the end of the day it was his fault things escalated to this level. He murmured an apology as the sun fell and darkness arrived.

Morning came, and Connor was not in bed where he and Will had remained for the majority of the night, too disconnected to eat. Will woke with the sunlight and heard the sounds of the water flowing in the bathroom beside him. So Connor had decided to take a swim without venturing out to the lake, or perhaps the first bath in a long time. Will left him to it for the time being, looking to see what options could be as far as clothes changes or breakfast. There was nothing in the pantry, but in the dresser of the room the two shared he found some of Connor’s clothes. They wouldn’t fit perfectly, but they were good enough, and he was decently sure Connor wouldn’t mind.

In about an hour, the water drained, but Connor never left the bathroom. There was a shuffle and a stumble, then silence. Will tried not to intrude, but he was more than a little worried after the events of last night. He didn’t want to look protective, but he was absolutely being protective as he rapped and tapped against the door. “Connor?”

No response.

His fist tightened, not angry, just worried. “I’m coming in, alright?”

Once again, silence. Will opened the door with a tight grip.

This bathroom was remarkably larger than his, but he still felt a twinge of deja vu to the first time he opened a bathroom door and found Connor and his tail in a bathtub. Of course, this time the bathtub wasn’t dimly lit and tiny, and this time Connor wasn’t peaceful.

No, Connor had swiveled over, sitting on the side of the tub, staring downwards at the floor, at his tail. His shoulders were shaking, but not from the wet cold, in fact, he was dry. 

He took a breath and though he didn’t look up, acknowledged Will with a motion of the hand. “I’m dry, Halstead,” He said gruffly, unfeeling, numb and exhausted in the voice. “It’s not going away.”

“What?” Will said, stepping closer, leaning down, touching the scales that looked dull, discolored. Bone dry, almost crackling against his touch, making Connor shift away and release from his touch. “Did—Did something happen?”

Connor tossed up his hands, almost a shrug, almost annoyed. “I don’t know! I don’t fucking know.” He said, and it was grim.

Will touched his cheek, and he leaned into that touch silently. For a moment they sat there, lit only by the sun streaming through the windows, and the longer they sat, the more reality set in. Connor was stuck like this for the time being; unable to walk, unable to leave the house. But then, he smiled.

“Guess this just means we’ll be stuck together for a little while longer, huh?” He asked Will, raising a brow, trying to find something to feel a little better about. Will chuckled, touching his shoulder, dragging down his arm, squeezing.

Lifting Connor and carrying him into the living room was more of an ordeal than Will could have expected. He knew the tail made Connor  _ heavy,  _ but this was still somehow more than expected. He struggled under it but held on, knowing he just needed to get used to it. Placing him on the couch was a relief, a breath he didn’t know he was holding that released. The change in scenery, though small, made Connor seem a little brighter. He unfolded the blanket beside him and covered up, more cold than afraid of being seen. Will messed with his hair, bouncing on his feet ever so slightly.

They hadn’t eaten since early yesterday, and there was nothing in the house, so Will decided to venture back into the nearest town and go find something to eat. Connor insisted he would be fine alone, so, with the TV turned on to something vaguely interesting, Will headed out to his car and into the streets.

This was the first time he had time to himself, truly, and once again his mind reflected back to Natalie’s call. It couldn’t hurt to respond, surely. He clicked to return the call as he pulled out of the house.

It rang five times before going to the voicemail tone, and Will sighed, hanging up, and trying again. This time it rang four times before Natalie answered, and there was a hurried hush in her voice. “Where did you go?” She asked, “Maggie won’t let me come in until I’m chilled out about this and I can’t chill aout about this until I-”

“I’m safe, Nat. Chill out,” He said, looking around, focusing on the road, waiting for any easy fast food place to make an appearance so that he could make it back to Connor.

She breathed easy now, raising her volume and slowing her pace. “That’s good. When you left, Ava came looking for you and I-”

“Ava? Again? What is her problem? I told her to keep away from me and she just  _ hasn’t.  _ Does she know anything about what’s going o-”

Natalie interrupted him. “She wanted to help, Will. She said Connor was being transported and that she felt bad for letting it go this far. You just beat her to it.”

“You know I’m with Connor?”

“Where else would you be?”

Will hesitated. So, Ava felt bad, felt like apologizing, and that was what she tried to call about. He had trouble believing it. Especially after their last confrontation, three weeks ag, and the recurring pattern of how she acted around Connor. Again,he felt protective, and was only snapped back into reality by Natalie asking if he was still there.

“If she really wants to help she can stay right there. I appreciate it, and you can tell her that Connor does too, but… I don’t trust her, and I doubt he would.”

“Right,” Natalie said, and then it was her turn to fall silent. A pause, too long. “You’re not coming back, are you?”

He chewed on his lip. A van passed him as he pulled into a fast food parking lot. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ll miss you,” She said quietly, not sad, just a statement.

“You too, Nat.”

When the click rang out and his phone became silent, he had to sit there for a moment. He had to wonder, once again, what he was doing, why he was here, who he was becoming. It wasn’t bad, wasn’t good, wasn’t nice. It was just something, and there was no avoiding it anymore, especially if he really did love Connor, and he did.

He ordered food; breakfast and lunch for later, too, and headed back home. The thought of Ava’s missed call made him want to return it as well, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t want to confront her or be confronted by her over the phone, not in person. It was more vulnerable that way.

Will turned down the side road back towards he and Connor’s hideaway, following the road quietly. There were more cars around than there were last time, which he figured was a little strange. It wasn’t necessarily a vacation season, at least, he didn’t think so.

He turned into the house and opened his car door, loading up the food in his arms and heading up to the door. 

He twisted the knob tightly, opening it and stepping in. He watched the floor while it shut, and when it clicked, he went to make eye contact with Connor.

Something was wrong.

He dropped the bags.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr @plumfulkiss  
thanks for reading; sorry for the delay


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